Working On It

March 20, 2018

Jean and I have been living in Port Elizabeth for over a year now and it has been much tougher, though simultaneously much easier, than I anticipated on the long and lonely 8 hour drive from Cape Town on the day of the Big Move.

The first year in Port Elizabeth brought with it a few minor personal catastrophes, including being diagnosed with PCOS and endometriosis, finding absolutely ZERO work opportunity in the digital/ marketing/ social media industry, being swallowed whole(-ish) by depression and anxiety, being consumed with guilt for the Cape Town friendships I’ve let slip, and realising my own bottomless capacity for self-loathing.

I had, somewhat naively, expected to have made friends (at least one or two) by the start of 2018, which isn’t hard when you work with many people or already have contacts in a new city. I, however, spent the first few months in PE doing freelance writing and social media work from home, while sending out my CV to so many places I lost count. Some of the job descriptions were so tangentially connected to my field and experience it’s laughable; some jobs I was vastly over-qualified for; some jobs I didn’t actually want to do at all but I felt desperate to get myself out there. After all that, I didn’t receive a single call back. Not one.

Taking the overwhelming lack of opportunity in my stride (after lots of crying and wine drinking of course) I decided to apply for study at Nelson Mandela University and do my English Literature Honours, something I have always wanted to do. Where better to meet like-minded people than at university? Unfortunately and quite shockingly, I was literally the only person who applied. For English Lit Honours. At a major university. They decided not to offer the course in 2018.

After a few uncertain months, I started working for my parents-in-law, in the transport and logistics industry. The opportunity was fortuitous as they needed me and I love working for them, but also sad because it effectively means the end of my personal career ambitions. Or at least, the end of how I thought I would pursue my personal career ambitions. This also means I work in an office made up of 4 people, one of whom I’m married to and two of whom are my in laws – not exactly prime friend-making opportunity.

All of this has made it pretty challenging to meet new people, because adults really only make friends at work, through existing friends, or at church. And Jean and I have no immediate plans to try the latter.

So that’s why I’m here, again. Back to a blog I started with hopeful intentions of creative exploration, but subsequently treated like I did the bubble-gum blue Nike Air Max I made Jean buy for me in 2015 – swearing they were cool and everyone was wearing them, before promptly forgetting about them, feeling vaguely cringe that I own them and totally ignoring them in my wardrobe every day. Who knew they would come in handy as a metaphor for my blog three years later?

I’ve simplified some of the pages and topics on here, having realised I was trying too hard to fit the mould of other blogs I enjoy reading. Which is probably why I couldn’t keep up the momentum of posting. Perhaps I’m back because my need to share my thoughts with other people who aren’t my husband has finally eclipsed my self-consciousness about putting myself out there. Or maybe I’m finally ready to start doing things my way without fear or anxiety about what others will think or worrying if they’ll even care.

Whatever it is, I’m working on it.




A Weekend In Morgan Bay

March 9, 2018

There are many things to hate about living in Port Elizabeth*. Its proximity to beautiful, surprisingly tropical, getaway locations is not one of them. For 2018 I vowed to take fewer trips to Cape Town – I made approximately 8 short and mostly unsatisfactory trips to the Mother City last year – and explore more of the rest of South Africa when possible.

For Jean’s birthday this year we decided to go back to a little coastal town we’ve been to before, but didn’t have a chance to fully explore… Morgan Bay. It is a four hour drive from Port Elizabeth, which is fine until about 2 hours in when it starts to feel really fucking long. (Still vastly better than the 8 hour drive to Cape Town though, so I’m not complaining.)

Last time we went to Morgan Bay, in 2015, we stayed at the Morgan Bay Hotel in a room that looks out directly onto the ocean. Because we were there in August, at the end of winter, the ocean was stormy and turbulent, particularly at night, which was incredible. These aren’t the kind of waters I would recommend swimming in, at least not very far from the shore, as I can just imagine how easy it would be to get swept away by the never-ceasing waves.

The coastal region around Morgan Bay is known as The Wild Coast, and wild is a very apt descriptor for this little town. Think dense untamed forests, endless bushy green hills and winding gravel roads. For someone used to living in a bustling city, the peace and quiet of Morgan Bay is really quite a treat.

This time we stayed in a beautiful private home on the river side of the town, with a stunning view of the lake/ river and green hills. The house itself – check it out here – was painted completely white inside and out, and had a luxury beach house theme. While previously we had eaten breakfast and supper in the hotel restaurant every day, which was lovely, this time we were able to braai and snack on the deck, enjoying the view with a drink in hand. It was perfection. We arrived to a humid, stormy evening on Friday and awoke to a beautiful clear day on Saturday morning. We spent the day exploring a tucked away forest market and having drinks at the hotel bar overlooking the ocean. I wish we could have stayed for longer than two nights, but unfortunately we both had work to get back to on Monday. There is so much to explore and enjoy in Morgan Bay, I’m sure we’ll discover something new every time we return.

Here are a few pictures, with my thoughts added here and there.



*Yeah yeah I know, I’m working on it.


Cutting Off My Hair Despite My Face

August 23, 2017

Cutting off two thirds of your hair is some scary shit. Sitting down in that almost-but-not-quite-comfortable hairdresser’s chair, facing the sober reality of my own face with its conflicting perfections and imperfections, I felt hesitant. Frankly, a bob might just not suit me as it did when I was 18. It’s always a gamble. As it happens, my hairdresser didn’t give me even a millisecond to hesitate before gathering most of my hair together and cutting that shit right off. Just like that.

Side note: it’s not really a bob. It’s a lob. A long bob. Which is *obviously* very different. I’m not brave (read: crazy) enough to attempt the Posh Spice. And Pinterest has assured me that the ‘choppy long bob’ is the new it-girl hairstyle of 2017. So what choice did I have, really?

The fact is, some women have ethereal, dainty pixie faces that would suit any style. From a prison style buzz cut to ‘I recently escaped from a cult after spending 20 years in an underground doomsday bunker’ floor length hair. These women can wear it all. Women like Mia Farrow or Natalie Portman. Women like Emma Watson or Emma Roberts or Emma Stone. (Basically, if your name is Emma, you’re probably good to go.)

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Hello Again, Again.

August 18, 2017

Let’s pretend I’ve been blogging this whole time. That I didn’t get all insecure about putting myself out there and that I certainly did not crawl back into my fearful little shell as I’ve done a thousand times before (once again confirming that my patronus is probably a turtle).

I like to think of myself as a bold and brave woman, with confidence and sass. And sometimes I am. But mostly I let my own mind get the better of me and I need a Valium (and a drink) just to feel like a real person. In the past I have always resorted to shocking myself out of my shell by doing something I genuinely fear, doing something that requires some bravery. I have gotten MANY painful piercings, a few spontaneous tattoos, and tried out various radical hairstyle changes – always in an attempt to prove to myself that I am, in fact, strong and beautiful and worthwhile. That I can do crazy things and just enjoy myself without second-guessing every move.

One of the reasons I started this blog in the first place was to have a creative outlet for myself. Something that would encourage me to explore and write and photograph and experience and share my little life with others. All of these things are still true and still necessary, but the biggest reason I am going to attempt this blogging thing again is that I desperately want to feel like I’m part of a community, that I’m not alone and that I belong. Particularly since moving to Port Elizabeth. And perhaps blogging, and being brutally honest about my emotional ups and downs, is the bravest thing I can do right now. Not piercings or tattoos or haircuts (though there are definitely a few of those in the near future).

I’m not sure if I’ll share the link to this post with anyone or put it out on any of my social media channels. Shit, I might even get too insecure and take it down tomorrow. But I’ll try to be bold – because that’s who I really am. Yes, I’m flawed, fickle and fearful – but I am here, and maybe this blog will help me finally fucking enjoy it.

Wish me luck.



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Christian Lacroix Forever

February 21, 2017

Ah, Christian Lacroix. A man so eccentric, Elton John is like “whoa, that’s a bit much”*. There are few designers I so thoroughly enjoy as I do Chrisitan Lacroix – the man’s use of colour and pattern borders on genius. I wish he could design/ decorate every room in my home, infusing it with all the extravagant detail and bird-of-paradise theatricality he is so well known for.

In lieu of his personal decorating services, though, I would gladly take the smallest of what he has to offer. Maison De Jeu Playing Cards, for example. Lacroix recently released a two-deck collection of playing cards, each card with its own unique design depicting the atmosphere of vintage French gambling house. And wow, from what I have seen these cards are gorgeous.

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Gallery Wall Wishlist

February 17, 2017

Ah, the gallery wall. A staple of the modern home.

Since the first walk through our new house, Jean and I knew we wanted to make a comfortable, creative space where we can be surrounded by all the art, music, colours and books we love. One of the easiest ways in which to surround yourself with life-giving, beautiful things is by simply hanging pictures on the wall, right?

We still have to finish repainting the walls, because the previous tenants went with a chocolate brown bottom and pale purple top combo which, well… just wasn’t my taste, but I’ve already googled and regoogled print ideas for a gallery wall above our couch (perhaps a tad prematurely). Ideally I would like to dye our couch covers first and add some colourful cushions like these at Hertex, but one thing at a time.

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Return of the Diary of a Movie Junkie

February 15, 2017

A lot has changed in my life over the last few months. What hasn’t changed is how many movies Jean and I watch in the average week. It’s a problem. A wonderfully entertaining and relaxing problem.

Anyway, I thought it time I did a follow up on my first ‘Diary of a Movie Junkie‘ post! Just like before I have linked the trailer for each movie in the title. I have also added the Metacritic score for each movie, for you film snobs out there.

Happy watching, couch potatoes!

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Friendly Stranger

February 10, 2017

It starts with coffee. As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m on a quest to discover Port Elizabeth and embrace my new hometown more fully (read: stop comparing it to Cape Town). So today I set out to find a cute little spot to sit down, drink coffee and get some work done.

Enter, Friendly Stranger.

Located in the Baakens Valley, just opposite Bridge Street Breweries, I have walked past Friendly Stranger quite a few times at night (they are not open for dinner) and wondered what it’s like inside. I was not disappointed! The decor and the overall feel of the place is downright charming in that exposed-brick-and-wooden-furniture way that makes millennials go crazy. There is an actual boat suspended from the ceiling. The walls are covered in art by local artists, all of which is for sale. The coffee is great (they have Deluxe Coffee) and the food is delicious. What more do you need to know?

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Chelou ft. Polly Nor

February 7, 2017

Yesterday I stumbled upon the music of Chelou. What first caught my attention was that his music video for ‘Halfway to Nowhere’ which is illustrated by Polly Nor. Anyone with a Tumblr account is familiar with her illustrations of women and devils, and rightfully so – her work is badass. I’ve always adored Polly Nor’s work and the prospect of seeing a three-minute video story of her work seemed like a great idea.

I ended up loving the song and listening to Chelou’s entire catalogue of music on Apple Music. Chelou is a London-based artist (as is Polly Nor) and has garnered quite a reputation for mystery – many of his fans had no idea what he looked like until very recently.

I would describe his music as being blue and moody in the best possible way. It’s the kind of music you listen to after a night out, lying on your bed in the late afternoon with the breeze blowing softly through an open window. It’s strangely calming and easy to get into. Give it a listen.


Hello Again!

February 5, 2017

It has been a minute since I updated this blog, and trust me, it has been weighing on my conscience. There is no guilt quite comparable to the guilt you feel when not updating a blog that took you so much time and energy to create – even if it feels like your dad is the only person who ever reads it.

Since my last post I have packed up my entire life in Cape Town, moved across the country to Port Elizabeth, found a new house, cleaned repainted furnished it , took on 3 new freelance clients, was in a car accident, spent a week in hospital (unrelated to the accident) and underwent surgery (turns out my ovaries won’t be winning any awards for efficiency). So perhaps the overwhelming silence of Oh, Sister isn’t entirely due to laziness on my part.

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